Wednesday, February 25, 2015

2.25.15 Unrepentant Into The Light



Winter illuminates
that which would not
be seen, heard

Steam billows from 
pipes , chimneys; the 
mesmerizing  dance now 
white against the  sky

A dove caught by a
young hawk, the patterns of large
wing tips as intricate as fingers 
pressing their lineage 
down into snow  , the blood 
crimson against glistening white

The tracks of the coyote, of the
weasel revealed , or the
moment an owl 
captured this mouse 
it’s exuberant error made
skittering across  the
snow late last night

Here, in your own days there is
much remains unseen, until a
flu brings you down or a
cold night kicks over your furnace
And then, suddenly, so much is
dragged unrepentant into the light







                                                                                                                    T 2.25.15
      


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